


Something Just Like This

by acaseofthemondays



Series: Darcy and the Winter Beefcake Chronicles [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, romanogers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 01:41:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18420218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acaseofthemondays/pseuds/acaseofthemondays
Summary: Steve and Natasha tell each other what they want.





	Something Just Like This

**Author's Note:**

> So this picks right up from chapter 28 with the "come to bed, Steven" line that you'll be familiar with if you've read my Grade A, American Beef fic. If you haven't read that, no worries, it'll still make sense so long as you read Wicked Games first. Have fun kiddies. I know I did.

“Come to bed, Steven.”

She hadn't so much as touched him in three months so the shock of her hand on his wrist and the meaning of her words had him blindsided. He swallowed twice and was vaguely aware of the words “Yes ma'am,” coming out of his mouth before letting her lead him out of the room.

The instant joy he felt at her suggestion dwindled with each step towards her apartment, doubt and worry and logic clawing to the surface. Did he even want to fall into bed with her again? After how much her refusal to acknowledge it afterwards had hurt him so much the first time?

He loved her, couldn't deny it to himself anymore, and he was torn between being desperate for her touch and being terrified of the aftermath.

He was still trying to figure out what the fuck he was supposed to do when Natasha pulled him over the threshold into her bedroom and began stripping him of his stealth suit. She got him bare from the waist up and began pulling him backwards by his belt, leading towards her bathroom.

She had his pants unbuckled and was beginning to push at the waistband of his tac pants when he finally made a decision. His hands came down around her wrists, stilling her touch. She looked at him with inquisitive eyes, that brilliant spy's mind running scenarios and outcomes.

“Natasha I can't do this.” The words stuck in throat on their way out, heavy enough that he had to force them.

“Why not? We had such a good time last time.” Her smile was sly, green eyes sparkling with humor and hunger.

“Yeah and then I woke up and you were gone and spent three months acting like it never happened. I can't--” his voice cracked and he swallowed before continuing. “I can't do that again, Tasha. I'm not that kind of man.” He could hear the weariness, the weakness in his own voice and it made him feel like such a pathetic schmuck, but he had to be honest with her, for the sake of his sanity.

He expected her to roll her eyes at him and push him back out of her apartment door. He expected her to call him a fool, a child for his infatuation. He somewhat expected her to knock him unconscious, but he generally thought that about her at any given moment. He did not, however, in a million years expect her to step closer to him and press her lips softly to his chest, just over his heart. His brow furrowed as he peered down at the top of her head, his confusion only growing when she turned her head to rest against his chest, scooting in closer to him and wrapping her arms around his waist.

“I'm sorry, luchik. I was unfair to you.” She looked back up at him with those big green eyes and he was utterly lost for a moment. “Steve, I'm not good at these things. They take a level of vulnerability that goes against every last bit of training and life experience I ever picked up in the Red Room...but I'm not in the Red Room anymore. And I want more of what you can give me.”

“And what can I give you? What is that you want from me? Sex?”

“Yes, that, but also companionship. Something deeper than just a steady lay. Something more permanent.”

Steve laughed in disbelief. “What, you wanna date me? Be my girl?” The idea was ludicrous. Natasha was not that kind of woman...and yet the way she was looking at him… “Wait,  _ is _ that what you want?”

Her eyes dipped to the center of his chest, avoiding his as she shrugged. “Yes.” It was soft, more a sighed confession than a confirmation, but it was there and it was making his head spin a little.

“Natasha...please,  _ please _ don't toy with me. Is that, in all honesty, what you want from me? An actual relationship?”

She nodded once, sharply, and met his gaze. “I still might break your heart, Steve. Like I said, I am not good at these things...but for once in my life I want to  _ try _ .”

Steve closed his eyes, breathing slowly. It was a risk. She was a risk, a woman with a history of bending the truth to serve her purposes and emotionally manipulating people, but he was a born sucker, wasn't he? And she was a risk he was willing to take.

When they kissed this time, he started it and he dictated the pace and pressure. His hands cradled her head, his fingers sliding through the glossy scarlet strands like he'd imagined so many times in the last several months. His mouth moved against hers, soft and unhurried, just enjoying the simple pleasure of her full lips sliding and pressing against his.

“ _ Steve _ ,” she gasped out when he finally pulled away from her. He'd never seen her look so dazed, so wholly unfocused. It was a good look for her.

He took his time undressing her, caressing her in all the ways that he'd wanted to the first time, but had been too afraid of her ridicule to try. Every line and curve of her spoke to the artist in him and his hands flexed against her skin, itching for pencil and paper to capture her. He helped her into the shower and she let him wash her from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. He kept waiting for her to scoff and roll her eyes at his sappiness, but more often than not he caught her wearing the smallest, sweetest smile he'd ever seen on her face.

Having finished washing away the grime of battle from her, he reached for her bottle of body wash to begin the task of washing his significantly filthier body. Natasha crossed her arms over her chest stepping back and just watching him with keen eyes as he scrubbed a washcloth over his chest and shoulders, hissing a bit anytime the cloth moved over one of the still healing cuts and bruises covering his body.

Small hands came to wrap around his wrist, stilling him and plucking the cloth from his hand. He raised an eyebrow at Natasha as she took over the task of scrubbing him clean, but remained silent. It was obvious to him that this kind of gentle give and take was not normally in her wheelhouse and it pleased him to see her trying so hard at something so foreign to her. He sighed and melted under the firm strokes of the cloth over his skin and the hot water pounding against his back. Just being near her had him half hard already and his case was not helped when she stepped closer, running the washcloth down to his groin. He sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes screwed tight as he endured the sweet torture of her teasing fingertips over him. His eyes snapped back open when he felt her reach behind him and run the cloth between his cheeks. He gave a surprised little yelp, jerking his hips forward into her and away from her wandering hand.

Natasha's face crumpled into lines of mirth as she giggled at his reaction. It was the most openly amused he'd ever seen her with none of the coy smirks or raised eyebrows that she usually employed. “Oh, luchik, you should see your face,” her smile was wide and easy, her teeth biting into her lower lip. “Guess that puts that rumor to rest,” she teased.

Steve flushed and cocked a brow at her. “Which rumor is that exactly?”

“The one where you and Barnes used to be lovers.”

Steve’s arms crossed over his chest, configuring his features into mild indignation. “And who’s to say we weren’t? You’re acting like I couldn’t’ve been a top back in the day.”

Natasha stared up at him with wide eyes until his stern expression slipped and he grinned at her wickedly. She broke into shocked laughter, reaching up to tweak his nipple as punishment. “So James likes it in the ass? He never told me that.”

Steve snorted and nearly choked on his own laughter. “Ah, I wouldn’t know about that. Bucky and I were never  _ actually _ lovers.”

Natasha bit down on her lower lip, her head tilting to the side. “That’s too bad,” she pouted. “It makes for a pretty picture.”

Steve blushed furiously and ducked his head. “Uh, yeah, we’ve um, been told that before.”

“Oh really? Do elaborate, Captain.”

Steve scrubbed a hand down his face, cursing himself for bringing it up in the first place. “There was this...girl, in Italy, during the war. She made some suggestive comments about taking us both to bed that night. Bucky went with her, I, uh, did not.”

“She was a prostitute, wasn’t she?”

“Yup.”

“Did Barnes know that beforehand?”

“Nope.”

Natasha sank to the shower floor with barely contained hysterics, one arm wrapped tight around her middle and the other gripping his calf for balance. “Luchik, that is fucking  _ spectacular _ . What did James do when he figured out the truth?”

“Spent all his money, down to the last dollar, and didn’t eat anything but Army rations for a month.”

Steve couldn’t help the wide, easy grin he was wearing as he peered down at the top of Natasha’s head and shaking shoulders. When she tilted her head back, convulsing with great huffing bursts of laughter, she looked younger to him. Softer. He dropped his hand down to sweep along the back of her head, drawing her gaze and calming her laughter. She smiled back up at him and then her eyes dropped to where he was still hanging at half mast. She straightened up on her knees, running both hands up the lengths of his thighs until she could grip at his hips. Her eyes flicked back up to his and he could see the exact moment the mask of the Widow came back down over her features. The calculated coyness, the artifice, the  _ dishonesty _ . He couldn’t stomach it.

He took her face in both hands and sank to his knees in front of her. “Please don’t do that,” he murmured.

She gave a surprised flick of her brow. “I’ve never met a man who didn’t love a girl on her knees.”

“Tasha,  _ stop _ ,” he pleaded, peering into her eyes. “You don’t...you don’t have to be so, so  _ fabricated _ . Not with me. I’m not a mark. You don’t have to work so hard to seduce me. I’m already yours. Have been for awhile,” he confessed with a self deprecating shrug. “All I want from you is honesty. Intimacy.” His thumbs stroked over her cheeks, pressing his affection into her skin.

Natasha stared back at him, his words taking her off guard and making her breath hitch in her chest. “Steve,” she breathed. “I don’t know how.”

He watched with an aching heart as her eyes lost their boldness, softening and pleading with him to understand. And he did. He truly did. It is a hard thing to remember what it is that  _ you _ want when you’ve spent so long being told by your whole world to only focus on what  _ it _ wants. It gets easy to lose yourself.

He brought his lips to her forehead. “I know. I know you don’t. But I know you can figure it out. In time.”

She laughed, and it was brittle, bitter sound. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Start by being selfish. Start by not giving two flying fucks what turns me on and what doesn’t. Do what feels good for  _ you _ . Do whatever makes  _ you _ happy.”

Her eyes were a little wet when when she pulled back to look him dead in the eye. “What if I want to fuck you in the ass with a star-spangled strap-on?”

Steve froze, trying to get a read on her. “Um...if that’s a thing that you want...then we can...do...that. But maybe, uh, get me used to something... _ smaller _ first?” he said, his words stilted and ending on a gulp.

Natasha’s face broke into a sunshiney smile, lighting her up and sending relief rushing through Steve’s veins. “Luchik, oh god, I don't think I've ever seen you so terrified.”

“Shut up, Natasha. It’s not funny. I almost swallowed my tongue!”

His words only sent her into another fit of giggles. “I know. It was beautiful,” she sighed, wiping a tear from her eye. She sobered slightly before continuing. “I’m not sure what I want, what I like. Except for you. I like and want you quite a bit. And right now I think I’d really enjoy kissing you.”

His smile was blinding and was a good mate to hers. “Now that’s an idea I can get behind.” He leaned in to kiss her but stopped at the look of confusion that passed over her face.

“No, Steve. Don’t you understand?” she asked, frowning.  _ “I _ would have to be the one behind  _ you _ .” She made a crude gesture with her hands and Steve glared down at her in mock annoyance.

“You finished making fun of me?”

“For now,” she grinned.

“Good.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and waist, bringing her in tight to his chest and kissing her with everything he had. She sighed into his touch, reaching up to stroke fingers through his hair and down over his neck and shoulders. They kissed long and slow enough for the water to start losing heat and Natasha tapped him on his shoulder, bringing his attention to the fact that she was starting to freeze. He looked a bit dazed, his eyes focusing in on the way her nipples were pebbling in the cold. Natasha smacked the back of his head, pulling out of his arms to turn off the water and reach for a fresh towel.

They hastily dried themselves and stumbled into Natasha’s bedroom, hands and lips searching and hungry. Natasha backed him towards the bed, stopping when the backs of his knees bumped against the edge. She withdrew from his arms, backing away a couple feet and just watching him. He wasn’t sure what was going through her head, but he could see she was plotting something and was utterly unsurprised to find himself suddenly flying back on the bed, the imprint of Natasha’s tiny foot, red and angry, smack dab in the middle of his chest.

He lifted his head up, glaring at her where she stood at the edge of the bed, her smile wide and mischievous. “What was that all about?” he asked, indignant.

“You said to do what I want, didn’t you?”

“Really? That’s what turns you on? Kicking unsuspecting men in the chest? No wonder you spent so much time kicking my ass when we sparred.”

“I just like surprising you is all. Your mouth drops open and your eyes widen and it reminds me of the way you look when you come. Which, yes, really  _ really _ turns me on.” She gave him a deeply amused smile at his reaction to her words. “Yeah. That face. Right there.”

Steve’s eyes fluttered closed and he flopped back on the bed with a growl, which only deepened when he felt her begin to kiss a line up his hip. He threw an arm over his eyes, his stomach quivering as she dipped her tongue into his bellybutton and then trailed it up between his abs. He felt her weight shift on the bed, crawling up his body and he met her mouth with exuberance.

“Steve,” she murmured in his ear, drawing the lobe into her mouth and then dragging her teeth across it. “I know what I want next.”

“Hmm? What's that?”

“I think I'd very much like to sit on your face.”

“Oh  _ fuck _ , Tasha. Whatever you want, honey,” he said fervently. Just the thought of her riding his mouth had him twitching.

She patted his cheek and crawled up his body further, tucking her calves under his shoulders and lowering herself to his mouth. The taste of her alone had him aching and thrusting up off the bed. His hands slid up over her hips to pull her down tighter against his tongue. Natasha rocked her hips in sweet, slow rolls against his mouth, her hands darting to his hair to tug mercilessly at the strands every time his tongue pressed against a particularly sensitive spot. He could feel her start to flutter against his lips and could hear her breathing growing ragged as she drew closer to her release.

He couldn't help the triumphant smile he wore when he felt her finally come apart on his lips, her thighs quaking and squeezing him with each contraction. She unhooked her legs from his shoulders and slumped gracelessly to the side. It was the first time in the entirety of their acquaintance that Steve had ever seen her do anything that wasn't completely, breathtakingly graceful. She looked adorable, her knees tucked under her and pushing her rump in the air while her face lay half concealed in the bedding. Adorable and sated with the way he could still see one eye and the corner of a grin peeking out at him from the mattress. He rolled to his side, hand reaching out to brush her hair behind her ear. Her eyes closed at the touch, a content hum sounding from her throat.

“I need a nap,” she mumbled into the sheets. “And maybe a snack after that.”

A laugh rumbled from his chest as he curled himself closer to her, sweeping his hand down her spine and causing her to shiver. “A nap sounds good to me, too.”

One perfect, auburn eyebrow lifted and she leveled the gaze of a single green eye at him. “What about this?” she asked, lifting a heavy hand to wrap around him.

Steve hissed and his hips rolled up against her grip on him before he was able to tamp down on the reaction. “It, uh, can wait. If you'd stop teasing me for a damn minute, I'm exhausted enough that I'd be able to calm down and sleep for a while. If you wanted?”

“Absolutely.” She finally let her legs straighten out over the mattress, reaching for one of Steve's biceps and pulling him to curl around her side. He pulled the covers up over them to their waists, but left Natasha's back bare so he could pet at the soft skin that followed the curve of her spine. She sighed and snuggled deeper into the warmth of her bed.

It had been months since he'd had any kind of decent rest. Natasha hadn't been lying when she told Bucky that he hadn't slept more than three hours at a time, and the strain of months of sleepless nights was finally taking its toll on even his enhanced body. But now that he was wrapped around Natasha, he succumbed to his exhaustion and slept like the dead for  _ hours _ , his body getting the recharge that it needed. When he eventually woke, it was still dark and he shook his head trying to clear the disorientation of waking from such a deep sleep.

It took a moment for memory to catch up to him and in that time he felt Natasha shift behind him where she was wrapped around his back. His mouth stretched into a wide, content smile. She'd stayed. And she  _ wanted _ a relationship with him. Elation flipped his stomach and prickled over his skin. He bit down on his smile, turning his face into the pillow, fighting the urge to squeal in delight. Like a teenaged girl. Because he was the biggest sap ever born and he was happier than he'd been in  _ years _ .

“You awake, luchik?” Natasha asked groggily.

His grin grew wide again and he turned in her arms to face her. “Yeah, I'm awake. Did I wake you?”

“Mmyes, but I don't mind.” She stretched her arms up over her head, arching her back and giving Steve a facefull of perfect breasts.

He pressed his face closer to her, mouthing at the underside of her left breast and humming in contentment. Natasha slipped a hand behind his head, pulling him firmly against her and encouraging the path of his lips and tongue. She sighed out his name and it made gooseflesh break out over his torso and his scalp prickle. He had one hand trapped between her ribcage and the mattress, his thumb stroking lazily along the underside of one heavy breast, and his other hand lay against the dip in her waist, but not for long. He swept the hand down over her hip and around to grab a handful of her ass, his fingers splayed across and dimpling her flesh.

“Well good morning, soldier,” Natasha chuckled when he used his grip on her ass to pull her against him.

“Morning,” he mumbled into her skin, then licked a stripe up the curve of her breast to swirl around her nipple before closing his lips around the bud. Natasha sucked in a sharp breath, the feel of him suckling at her causing her hips to buck against him. He hummed his approval and stroked his tongue repeatedly over her until she was squirming and muttering Russian nonsense into his hair.

She shoved impatiently at his shoulders, trying to urge him onto his back, but his innate mischievous streak had him ignoring her and sucking mercilessly hard at the nipple in his mouth. Natasha shrieked and began beating him about the head with a flurry of sharp jabs. He popped off of her, giggling and trying to block her assault.

“You know I can kill you with one hand, right?” she threatened, two fingers pressing into a spot on his neck that had the entire left side of his body falling numb.

Despite her menacing smile, Steve grinned cockily back at her. “Worth it.”

Her smile softened and she released the hold she had on his neck, ducking down to kiss the bridge of his nose. “They should have called you Captain Asshole. It suits Steve Rogers much better.”

“That's what the Howlies liked to call me behind my back. And then to my face when they realized I could hear them anyway.”

“Then you won't mind if that's what I call you from now on?”

“Honey, you can call me whatever the fuck you want, so long as you keep letting me wake up with my face buried in your chest.”

Natasha flung her head back onto her pillow with a cackle. “You've got a deal, luchik…now roll on your back like a good boy. Please?”

“Yes ma'am,” he said with a cheeky grin.

Natasha rolled with him, flinging a leg over his hips to straddle his thighs. It just took one long, slow kiss from Natasha to get his heart pounding and his lungs laboring in his chest. He felt like he was on the verge of passing out, but that was mostly because he was dizzy with joy and reduced blood flow to his brain.

Something in his expression must have been amusing to Natasha based on the way the corners of her eyes crinkled with mirth. He wanted to ask her what exactly was so damn funny but became distracted when she bent over him to press a series of kisses over his nose and cheeks, chuckling into his skin the entire time.

He brought his hands up to frame her face and keep her still so he could kiss her properly, his tongue flitting against hers and sliding slickly against her bottom lip. She took that moment to shift her hips up, rocking against him.

“ _ Oh my god _ ,” he groaned into her mouth, hips shifting restlessly up against her.

“Patience, Captain,” she chuckled, reaching down between them to grip him with clever fingers.

“Don't you think I've been plenty patient, Tasha?” he choked out. “Three months’ worth of patient.”

Natasha dipped her head to suck at the skin of his throat, undoubtedly marking him. “Mmm, so you have.” She lifted her hips slightly, just enough to notch him against her. It took every bit of his self discipline to keep still and not surge up into her, instead letting her take her time to slide down him at whatever speed made her happy.

It would appear that speed was very  _ very _ slowly.  _ Excruciatingly _ slowly.

His head tilted back against the pillows, his mouth hanging open and his tongue wetting his lips, breath shuddering out of him with every inch of progress. When she finally sank down with him fully seated inside of her, he muttered a string of unintelligible curses. He opened his eyes to see Natasha's head hanging between her shoulders, her breathing just as ragged as his. She opened her eyes and met his gaze, a lopsided grin tugging at her lips.

“Forgot how thick you were, luchik. Remind me not to wait another three months before doing this again.”

Steve snorted. “Don't have to ask me twice. I'll make sure to remind you to take me to bed at least once a day. Scout’s Honor.” He held his hand in the scouts three-fingered salute.

Her eyebrows arched and she reached out a hand to close over his hand, curling the three fingers back down into a fist. “You're a big, dumb, dork Steve Rogers,” she deadpanned.

“You like it,” he said, grinning up at her.

She rolled her eyes in response. “Yes. I like it,” she admitted. “God help me.”

He meant to say something sassy in return but she derailed his line of thought when she rose to sit up straight and rolled her hips.

“Oh  _ fuck _ ,” he muttered, losing himself to the feel of her riding him.

His hands slid up her thighs to rest at her hips, his fingers pressing into her skin and pulling her to grind down against him at the apex of each roll of her hips. His eyes fluttered closed. God, he'd been aching for this for far too long.

She was perfect. Soft and warm and wet and strong enough to make him feel weak in the most spectacular way. He loved that when she looked at him she saw Steve Rogers and not Captain America. She didn't treat him like an icon, she treated him like a friend, like a man. And could kick his ass if he ever forgot where the line between the man and the image lay. God, she was perfect and all he ever wanted was something just like this.

She swiveled her hips in a particularly enticing fashion that had him crying out in a choked sob of pleasure. When he regained some control of himself, he opened his eyes to find her staring down at him, a calculating look in her eyes as she watched him. His heart squeezed in his chest in dismay when he realized she was trying to read him, to please  _ him _ .

That just wouldn't do.

He planted his hands on the bed on either side of his ribs to push himself into a seated position. The new position didn't give either one much room to move, but it felt more intimate, the closeness, the way her chest was pressed to his. “Tasha, you're thinking too hard again, honey.” He brought his hands up to cradle her face, leaning in close to kiss over her eyelids. “Keep your eyes closed for me. Just feel me and know that I'm yours.”

Natasha exhaled shakily against his lips, a breathy chuckle slipping out at the end. “Luchik, you're such a sentimental fool.”

“Yeah, it's part of my appeal. Trust me, you'll grow to love it,” he teased.

Something strange passed over her face. “I probably already have...in my own way.”

Steve's stomach dipped and soared at the confession. He knew it took a lot for her to admit to him even the slightest depths of her feelings to him. His eyes prickled sharply.

“Oh my god, Rogers. Are you going to cry every time I tell you that I like you?”

“...Probably,” he snuffled.

“I've made a terrible mistake.”

Steve growled and nipped at her neck. “Too late. No returns.” He rocked his hips up into her and her head lolled against his shoulder, a long, low moan escaping her lips.

“Dammit, Rogers, just like that,” she purred into the skin of his neck.

He was a gentleman, so he of course obliged the lady, rocking into her gently over and over in a way that had her arms locking around his neck. She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, plastering herself to him as close as she could get. He hummed into her mouth, one hand sliding into her hair at the back of her head and the other wrapping around her delicate waist to pull her into him. They rocked tenderly together and it was a slow build of pleasure between them. He could feel his climax spiraling closer and he had to dip his face into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, focusing on keeping it at bay until he felt her coming hard around him.

When she finally peaked and clenched him, she made the tiniest, sweetest cry of ecstasy and it was enough to have him falling over the edge. His mouth hung slack against her throat in a silent moan and his eyes squeezed tight against the overwhelming pleasure as tears gathered in their corners.

Fully spent, he collapsed back down into the bed pulling Natasha down with him. She made a grunt of mild displeasure and admonished him for trapping her legs behind his back. He was vaguely aware of thrusting his ass up into the air so she could free her legs, a sharp cry coming from her lips at the sudden shift of him against her overly sensitive flesh. “Sorry,” he mumbled as Natasha pulled off him and then settled back down on top of his chest. She folded her hands on top of his chest, resting her chin on them as she watched him come down from his high.

“You okay?”

“‘M fine,” he mumbled, eyes still closed and chest still heaving.

“You’re crying, luchik.” Her voice was surprisingly tender and it had him blinking his eyes open. He brought his hands to his cheeks, surprised to find wetness there.

“Uh, sorry about that,” he sniffled, slightly embarrassed. “Like you said, sentimental fool.” He shrugged helplessly.

She shifted up to kiss him chastely on the lips and then along his tear-stained cheeks, flicking the tip of her tongue out to taste them. “Don't apologize. I don't mind. I knew what kind of man I was getting into bed with, luchik.” She smiled sweetly at him, stroking her fingers through his blond locks.

His answering smile was just as sweet, if a bit watery. “Yeah I suppose you did.” He luxuriated in the feel of her fingers in his hair for a few tender moments before a thought occurred to him. “You keep calling me that. Luchik? What does it mean?”

Natasha's features froze and he could see the struggle behind her eyes whether or not she would be open with him. He waited patiently, letting her fight it out with herself. He was utterly shocked when he saw the panic leak away to be replaced by...a blush? Imagine that, the Widow blushing. Her eyes darted to where her fingers lingered in his hair. “Ah, it means, um, ray. Sunbeam, sunshine, ray of light. It's a term of endearment.”

“So you're saying I'm your sunshine, your only sunshine?” he teased, tugging at the end of a strand of flaming red hair.

“It's used in reference to blondes, usually… But yes.” She glanced at him, her teeth worrying over her bottom lip. “You are my...light in the dark. You make me feel...cleaner, brighter. I guess,” she finished lamely, unable to look him in the eye.

“ _ Tasha _ ,” he sighed, his heart near bursting.

She met his gaze again only to roll her eyes and huff in dismay. “Really, Rogers? You're crying? Again?”

“Can't help it,” he murmured and then pulled her into a slow, sweet kiss.

She sighed in contentment, slipping down off his chest to snuggle into his side. “I suppose I'll get used to it in time.”

Steve leaned in to press a kiss into her hair. “In time,” he whispered, heart swelling.

 

***

 

Natasha had always hated when men cried. But as she lay next to Steve, watching his chest rise and fall in the steady cadence of sleep, she could still taste his tears on her tongue.

She could not remember anything ever tasting so sweet.


End file.
